


Time of War

by Niokman



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BAMF Hermione Granger, Black Hermione Granger, Fix-It, My First Fanfic, The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, Time Travel, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2019-10-13 12:34:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17488139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Niokman/pseuds/Niokman
Summary: She was back, and she was determined to make it count. As a new member of the House of Black, will Hermione succede in changing the past and punishing those responsable of what she had become ?





	1. Chapter One : A Jump in Time and Space

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever fanfic / attempt at writing. Please by nice if you choose to comment ! Also, English is not my first language, so if you see any grammatical error, please do not hesitate to notify me. 
> 
> I hope you envoy this story, I'm not sure yet how long it'll be, but certainly arount 50k.
> 
> Hugs and kisses xx

Hermione was _pissed_.

She looked around. This definitely wasn't supposed to be where she landed. She was surrounded by trees, and could see a village in the distance. No way to be certain from her observation point, but she was pretty sure it was Hogsmead.

She sighed.

She definitely wasn't supposed to be here. But let's hope she was supposed to be  _ now _ .

 

***

She decided to start walking toward the cave she remembers was nearby. Ironically, it was where Sirius spend some time in hiding during her fourth year, to be near Harry. Her heart constricted at the thought. To be in such proximity to the castle stirred a lot of painful memories, and she closed her eyes to stop her tears from falling. She had cried enough.

The pain down her throat seemed to resonate in her entire body. She had screamed so much during the jump. She could barely remember anything besides pain and screaming. She was almost emptied of her energy, and she prayed that the cave was as close as in her memories. Hermione feared that her legs couldn't hold her for much longer.

She was still on the defensive, though. Years of being on the run printed that reflex too deep in herself that a bout of fatigue would change that. She also didn't forget that she was in the Forbidden Forest. Even if she was not in a time of war, that was still something to be wary about, and she dearly hope that she wasn't in a time of war anymore. To think that all of this would have been for nothing.. But no, of course not. It had to have worked. She wouldn't be there otherwise.

Not allowing her thoughts to discourage her, Hermione finally arrived to the cave. It was small and inconfortable, but at least it was dry enough that she could hope to sleep and rest for the rest of the night, and be more rested to start planning in the morrow. She flicked her wrist, her wand apparating in her hand, vibrating with the magic of the rituel still. A small smile appeared of Hermione's face before she started casting the most secured blood wards she knew. She guessed that she would have to stay here for a while, so it wouldn't do to skip on the security – as if she would, anyway.

Then, she detached the bag that was strapped on her back, having switch the too noticeable beaded bag for a more advanced and practical backpack. She took out a hammock, and fixed it to the walls of the cave. That ought to do for the rest of the night, she'll add a more comfortable living space tomorrow.

Hermione closed her eyes, willing to fall into a dreamless sleep.

***

Hermione woke up at dawn the next day, her body still hurting from everything she'd been through and from the tiredness she had accumulated over the last few years. She was very young still, but she had been through so much that it sometimes felt like she was a hundred years old. Her eyes opened, and she lay still, gazing at the ceiling for a while, trying to shake the worries and fears clouding her mind.

"Well, time to act,'' she grommeled to herself while standing. "Kreacher !"

The old elf appeared with a pop. Her heart contracted. If he was here, alive, and she could summon him... It must have worked.

"Little Miss called Kreacher ? But Kreacher doesn't know the little Miss, no, he doesn't..." he said, twisting his hands, his discomfort obvious.

"Hello, Kreacher. It is nice to see you. Calm down, please. Try to focus on your magic."

Hermione had spent a long time researching family magic, after all. She knew of the bound the House Elves had with their families, and how they could sense the magic in them.

Sure enough, his already huge eyes went even bigger. "Little Miss is a Black ? Kreacher is honored to meet the Little Miss, but he doesn't understand, no, he doesn't..."

"Focus, Kreacher. Come on. It's not that complicated, I'm sure you will figure it out."

"Little Miss is a Black, but... Not from now ?"

"That's right, Kreacher. Well done. Listen to me, I have to ask you not to reveal to anyone that I have called you. It is of the utmost importance that nobody now of me yet. I must also ask you how is your master Regulus."

"Master Regulus is very well, Little Miss from after, miss !"

"Please, call me Hermione. Well, that's good news. Very good news." She let out a sigh of relief. She was not too late, at least : that had work correctly. "Kreacher, I must ask you something else. If it's at all possible, can you bring Regulus here without suspicions of the rest of the family ? I really need to talk to him."

"Kreacher will check right away, Miss !" And at that, the House Eld disappeared with a crack.

Hermione decided to use her time waiting by putting down the hammock, and starting a fire at the front of the cave. Her parents always told her that breakfast was the most important meal of the day, after all. By the time she had finished preparing some eggs and bacon, a young man appeared.

The young woman sitting next to the fire was quite striking. She didn't look up, even if she had obviously sense him coming. She was obviously a witch, if her clothes were anything to go by. Under a casual robe dress, she wore a most intriguing costume of skintight matte black leather. Dragonhide, if he had to guess, but he had never seen some that dark. He wondered from what type of dragon that might be from. There was a wand holster at her right arm, and another at her ankle. Signs of a fighter, he noted distractly. Her skin was quite dark, and her curly hair was braided away from her face. She was petite, but a feeling of power emanates from her. Definitely not someone he would want to cross in a fight.

"Who are you, witch ? Why would Kreacher send me here ?"

She deigns raising her face, then. She really was pretty, but that's not what Regulus noticed at this moment. Her eyes were a steely grey. He knew this eyes. Those were Black eyes, same as his. Well, this morning seemed to be getting quite interesting.

"Hello. My name is Hermione. I think you might be interested in what I have to say. Would you like some food ? It is still quite early, after all."

The young woman - Hermione - stood up, quite ungracefully, and presented a plate of food to Regulus. Wordlessly, he took it, but didn't sat down. Something was making him uneasy about that place. He let his gaze wander while the woman resumed eating. Something at the entrance of the cave caught his attention.

"The wards... Is that blood wards ?" He choked out.

She hummed. "Indeed. Notice anything else ?"

"They are Black wards."

"Yes."

"How ? Are you from a disinherited part of the family ? Cedrella married the Weasley, you don't seem the type. Uncle Marius, maybe ? But you're a witch, he is just a squib. He wouldn't know the ancestral magic."

She snorted. "Not a Weasley, what makes you say that ? Not redheaded enough ?"

He looked at her dark skin with obvious discontent.

"Answer me, witch."

"Fine,” she sighed. "You don't know me, because I'm not from here. You should sit down, this is likely to take a while."

Regulus may not be as hot-tempered as his illustrate brother, but he was still defined by his curiosity. He sat down.

"What I'm about to tell you is a long story and, quite frankly, is difficult to believe. If it makes things simpler, you may call Kreacher. He will be able to confirm at least the most pressing concern you seem to have about my identity."

If he was surprised by her advice - most wizards disregarded elves - he didn't make it obvious.

"My birth name is Hermione Jean Granger. I was born in 1979, or I will be, I suppose. A few days from now, if everything happened correctly. My birthday is on the 19th of september. May I ask what day it is today ?"

A look of suspicion passed on Regulus face, but he replied anyway "It's the 8the of september, 1979. I'll need to hear more, if you don't mind."

"Of course. Well. In the summer of 1999, I was -will be ... Eugh, this is more difficult than I anticipated. I'm sorry. I was blood adopted by the last living member of the House of Black. I was then sent here to prevent a lot of things from happening. Strangely enough, it seems to start with you."

"What... Blood adopted ? This is dark. You shouldn't tell me this like that. This seems to be quite the tell, Miss Granger. I don't know who put you up to this, was it Sirius ?"

She sighted. Well, that's nothing they hadn't anticipated before sending her back. She pulled a newspaper from her backpack and gave it to Regulus.

It was dated from August, 1999. The screaming headline read in bold letters : "Supreme Leader successful ! Last Mudbloods Send to their Death in Azkaban, Country Finally Purified !"

He looked up in shock. "What is that ?! It could still be a false."

"Well, it's not like I didn't see this coming. Kreacher, please come here !"

"Mistress Hermione called ?"

"Indeed. Might you be willing to tell Regulus about who I am ? I know you can't lie to him."

"Mistress Hermione is a Black, Master Regulus, but not from now. Mistress Hermione is from after, Master Regulus, Sir."

Regulus was clearly distressed. This was a lot to take in. He finally sit down, looking pensively at the woman in front of him.

"Well, if it starts with me, I think you should tell this story, Miss Granger."

"Right. I know you have been researching for the Dark Lord since you left school. Impressive NEWTS records, by the way. Quite a nice work you've done, with the Inferis, I have to say. A simple wand movement instead of a long rituel... How very clever. But soon, your Lord will ask you for a favor. He will want Kreacher for something, and that will end your cleverness for ever. Luckily, I'm here !"

At that, she smiled. It made her look a bit deranged, as if she hadn't smile in a while and had loose the habit.

Regulus did not respond for some time. He stood frozen, his brows furrowed.

« You must know I have been... disenchanted by the Dark Lord policies for a long time now. He retranched himself in magic too dark to be sustainable. He is losing grip with reality, only trying to quench his thirst of sacrifices to appease his ever growing dark side. I would not speak of this with anyone, but you seem to know that already. I have succeeded in only participating in the ravels as little as was necessary, and in being seen as better used as a researcher. But don't think I didn't catch what you said earlier, about having been adopted by the last of the Blacks. How ? »

The idea clearly pained him. She knew family was everything for the standing members of such a Noble and Ancient House. Well, the sane ones, anyway.

"Fine. I'll make this quick, please don't interrupt me. The Dark Wanker has actually made Horcruxes. That's probably what tipped his remaining sanity down the drain. And yes, you heard right, Horcruxes plural. His goal is to separate his soul into 7 pieces."

Regulus, a most dignified and composed wizard in most occasions,  _ gasped _ .

"I know. You would have found out sometimes at the end of this year, and died trying to get to one of them. Quite heroic, really, but you didn't tell anyone else. In consequence of that, your mother's sanity will crumble, leading to the death of your father. The cause is unsure, but most likely poison. No idea why, sorry. Anyway. The fight between the Dark forces and the Ministry and the Order calm down for a while, and pick up in 1981, when a lot of pureblood families are decimated, even some of the Sacred 28. The war culminated with the death of the Potters and the disappearance of the Dark Lord. Sirius will be sent in Azkaban."

For the first time, her voice crack, and she seems to have trouble keeping her emotions in check. Regulus seemed frozen, not a single emotion appearing on his face.

"So, you see... To help the House of Black, our House, from descending into oblivion, I will need your aid. And I will need you to help me destroy the Dark Lord."

All Regulus could do was stare.


	2. A Plan Is Made

« Alright. » a pause. « Alright ». 

« Yeah. You already said that. »

« I'm processing, okay ? »

« Sure. Take your time. »

« Alright. We are going to need a plan. And a good one, if we have to convince the family. They are not all as disillusioned as I am. »

Regulus stood up and started pacing in front of the fire. Hermione was watching him carefully, staying very still, her eyes not leaving his body, scrutinising him for tales of dishonesty. He was obviously thinking fast, mumbling under his breath, so lost in his thoughts he didn't even think about her anymore. After a while, he stopped. Hermione still hadn't moved a muscle, waiting for him to talk. 

« We are going to need to find you an identity. And a good one, to be accepted where I want you to go. Consider it your debut in high society, Miss Granger. »

« We thought about that. I was thinking about reclaiming the Black name as a descendant of a disown but still  pure branch of the family. I was thinking about Phineus Black, Arcturus' uncle. He was disowned by his brother after a fight for a woman, I believe... That would make me your distant cousin. You would know how to go about that, wouldn't you ? »

« Well, yes, but that may displease you. For you to be reinstated in those circumstances... Your statut should become an issue. One way to go about that would be to present you as someone I wish to become... closer to. »

Hermione closed her eyes for a moment. 

« Fine. Let's pretend you want to marry me. I guess being family would make me a great match,  this case » she laughingly said, looking quite distraught. 

Regulus seemed to pick up on her anguish about the subject. « Don't worry. I have no interest in this kind of engagement whatsoever. You are a lovely person, but I barely know you. Let's just plan on a long betrothal for the time being, before this situation with the Dark Lord can be fixed. »

Hermione sighted. « I guess this will have to do. A place of confidence in the family in primordial in my plans, anyway.

 

***

 

_ She was running. Blood, blood everywhere. Focusing on the stairway to Ravenclaw tower, she sped up, her lungs burning and her legs punishing her for the effort. All she could think about was Harry. Dead. All of Dumbledore wisdom she so treasured, useless. Harry was dead. She saw him fall, next to Ron, next to George, next to Molly. So many dead. All she could do was run. The scar from de Department of Mysteries, Dolohov's scar, hurts so much when she runs. All she can feel is ash in her mouth, and sickly green everywhere. She must find Luna and Ginny, and she will look as long as her legs carry her. All she can focus on is the staircase. One step after the other, surrounded by ash and death. So much ash, so many deaths.  _

_ She doesn't even startled when a hand grabs hers. She just turns, slowly, to the man touching her. If he truly wanted her dead, she would be. She knew him, and didn't trust him, but he wouldn't kill her.  _

_ "Please. Please, take me with you. He killed my parents. Hermione, please."  _

_ He never called her Hermione before. _

 

***

 

Regulus was wearing his best robes, and his hair was impeccably combed, but he couldn't help feeling nervous about this. He knew exactly what was at stake here. He and Hermione had studied the situation extensively. However, no matter how much he thought he knew his mother, it was impossible to predict how she would react to such news. It would be a novelty for her as well. 

 

He stood in front of the door of his childhood home, his mouth dry and his heart palpitating. But before he could think of disappearing again in the safety of his flat, Kreacher opened the door. 

 

“Mistress is wondering what is taking you so long, Master Regulus."

 

"I'm sorry, Kreacher. I am simply feeling a little off, today. Please, do go on.”

 

He stepped inside and immediately felt the ancestral magic of the house restricting his breathing, judging him. Dear Merlin, how bittersweet. The tingling of the magic which meant childhood, home, and family, but was also so dark and slimy. It was so powerful that he could feel it in his fingers and solar plexus, everytime he took a breath. 

 

Regulus was so far in his mind that he didn't hear his mother coming up to meet him.

 

“Dear, what on earth are you doing ? Your Father and I are waiting for you in the boudoir. Your ant Lucretia is here as well,” she added with a subtle grimace of distaste. Walburga could never quite withstand the woman, no matter how hard she reminded herself that she was family. After all, she married a Prewett. 

 

As they were walking toward the boudoir, chatting about the newest piece of gossip about the Nott heir – a disgrace -, Walburga noticed the dark circles under her son's eyes, and his attitude even more distant than usual. Regulus had never been a very talkative young man. Even so, she couldn't help but think something was amiss. He didn't even react to the news that his aunt was visiting, even if he had cultivated a surprising fondness for her. 

 

As he left his mother poundering, Regulus entered the boudoir and saluted his Father and Aunt. Soon, the conversation picked up about Lucretia's newest grand-nephew and Father's newest proposal for the Wizenmagot. 

 

"And that is why it is of the utmost importance that the production of Floo Powder is privatized again. The government shouldn't be involved in this business, a respectable family such as the Rosiers are perfectly capable of managing a prosperous and respectable enterprise. Of course, the Light faction disagree, but when do they not? Nonsense, really! " he huffed.

 

Walburga, however, didn't bother responding to her husband. She was watching her son. She knew no one would define her as a motherly, or even remotely affectionate, person. But she was clever and perceptive, and was observing the way his eyes kept roaming around the room, as if looking for something to anchor himself, and the light pellicule of perspiration that marred his forehead. She also knew that her equally clever and perceptive cousin was noticing the same details, and choose to let her take the lead on the questioning that was sure to happen as soon as Orion would stop rambling about his asinine Wizenmagot meeting. 

 

Just a the older man stopped talking, seemingly surprised by the lack of interest in debating this riveting issue about the importance of privatisation for the industry of Floo Powder, Walburga just had to flash a look at her cousin to invite her to talk. 

 

"Indeed, Orion, I agree. I would love to hear more about this, but it has been some time since I haven't seen my nephew. Tell me, Reggie, are you well?" Lucretia asked, seemingly oblivious to the désapprobation of her brother, and to the grimace of her nephew when called his distasteful childhood nickname. 

 

" I am well, Aunt Lucretia, thank you. I actually have some news of interest for the family, that I was hoping to share with Father today, but your concile, as Mother's, would be greatly appreciated."

 

His mother still hadn't spoken, and that fact irked him even more. She wasn't known for her patience and restreint. 

 

Orion, finally sensing the tension in the room, finally focused on his son. 

 

" Well, then. What are those news? "

 

Taking a deep breath, Regulus replied " As you know, I am currently doing research on genealogy and the importance of bloodlines, for the preservation of the family magics." It wasn't even a lie, he truly did that kind of research. "my work lead me to travel a little, and I met someone that can only be considered of the utmost interest for the family. A young witch, in France. Inordinately powerful. A pureblood, of course… " 

 

"Of course," interrupts Orion, waving his hand. “What of it? "

 

Regulus seemed to take a moment to ponder this, and respond appropriately. " She is a Black."

 

The already quiet room stopped to a till. 

 

" What do you mean, a Black? All the family left France centuries ago." interjected Lucretia. 

 

" Well, some came back. You may remember Grandfather Arcturus' uncle, Phineus."

 

"He was disown", hissed Walburga, "and is no longer considered family, but a blood-traitor!" 

 

"Yes, Mother, I know that he was disown, I remember your lessons. But the man was devoted to the cause of our rank, and did his part to better our society. He was very attached to his lineage, and was disown because of a fight for a woman, if you remember correctly. He wouldn't sully his blood. "

 

" That's true"  replied Lucretia, recovering from her surprise at the choice of topic and becoming more and more delighted by the puce shade her sister-in-law and cousin was starting to become.

 

“Well, anyway. I was, of course, curious to learn more about this side of the family, and about this young woman in particular. She is quite enthralled with the idea of learning more about her bloodline. She herself was born in Senegal. From what I gathered, Phineus married a Latréamont, and then had a son who decided to travel along the French Colonies, and married here. He took a wife from the Ehemba family, as well known and powerful as the Latréamont. Almost equals to the Blacks. It may be why she is so powerful.” 

 

Quite a dangerous statement to make in front of his own parents, first-cousins. Regulus looked at her mother. From spitting mad as she was when reminiscing about the family traitors, a sore subject for her, she now looked pensive and calculative. 

Anxiously, Regulus watched her talk for the first time. “Well, dear, you look very interested in this young girl. I admit she seems quite extraordinary, from what you tell about her. Still, her grandfather… distasteful” she said, frowning. 

 

“I’m convinced she can rise above this. This is why I talked about her situation, actually. I was wondering if you would find it agreeable to receive her here, and make your mind about her by yourself.”

  
  


Lucretia seemed to be about to explode from delight. “You want to invite this girl here to meet your Mother ? Regulus, how sweet of you.” 

 

Regulus, of course, was red from embarrassment. But Walburga, barely maintaining her composure when confronted with the fact that her sweet young boy was interested in a -powerful, pureblooded- girl, interjected : 

 

“Of course, dear, we will meet with her. How about tomorrow, for tea ?”

 

He acquiesced. Already dreading the day to come, but also relieved for his family’s nosiness. The plan was in action.  


End file.
